


Interrobang

by Yours_Truly_Commander_Shepard



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crack, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Face-Sitting, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Sexual Fantasy, Thirsty Rey, awkward space virgins, this is just trash, trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 21:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17454524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yours_Truly_Commander_Shepard/pseuds/Yours_Truly_Commander_Shepard
Summary: I saw Supreme Dorkus suggest this for Ever-So-Reylo and loved the prompt.* * * * * *Rey:  I've read your mind and all the kinky shit you think about me, so go on then.Kylo: *Internal screaming*





	Interrobang

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ever-so-reylo (Ever_So_Reylo)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ever_So_Reylo/gifts).



> This is not going to go the way you think.

He was a mighty hunter for the Dark.  A raptor. A predator.  A black, sibilant shape that descended through the opaque atmosphere of Varkis with the ease of a thought. 

His prey was near, the ship’s aft section visible through the break in the forest.  The ship’s signature might be disguised by the metallic ur-trees that swayed and shrieked hollowly in the constant winds, but hers was not.  She could not hide from him in the Force. 

The command shuttle descended a short distance away from the _Falcon_.  Kylo Ren exited his shuttle alone; there were none but him who could match her, and the only beings he’d ever feared were dead these three months, made ghosts in the Force on the exact same day.  The wind through the trees rose in a howl as he neared the _Falcon_.  The clatter and clamor of it covered even the sounds of his pounding heart and loud breathing inside his own body.  He’d waited for this moment for so long.

The Force told him that she was alone inside the craft. How fitting. 

He did not need to look for the lock panel to the hatch, did not need to think to remember the code. No one, all these many years later, had ever thought to change it. He punched in the code and the hatch swung open to admit him, the air within still smelling of amine, fur, and engine grease. 

He was not accosted as he climbed through the hatch and entered the cargo hold.  It was largely empty, dark, and echoing.  Pursing his lips, he thought of shouting a hello.  It was the largest open space on the ship, and they’d need the room for their battle.  He had no interest in conducting a lightsaber duel to the death while tripping over trash and dirty clothes and whatever else the scavenger had scattered around the crew compartment.

Nor, in truth, did he have much desire to see the crew compartment. 

It was mostly the lack of words that drove him to the forward compartment hatch and up the next ladder. What the kriff was he supposed to yell?

_It’s me, your mortal enemy._

_Come down and fight me._

_Are you up?  Wake up._

_Hello, desert rat?_

_Can you hear me?_

He had not heard from her in three months.  The bond was silent. 

Sighing, he climbed higher. His leather gloves slipped on the rungs; someone had cleaned and polished them.  _That_ must have been a new experience for the _Falcon_.

He emerged in the living quarters, which were equally devoid of people and things.  He huffed his continued displeasure that the ship seemed to be ignoring him.  He knew that there were sensors on the doors.  His presence _must_ have been noted.  Also, someone had replaced the mustard yellow upholstery on the banquette benches.  It was now rust orange.  It looked terrible.  He’d burn the entire thing after they were done, if he still lived. 

He stuck his head into the cockpit, but it was powered down.  Some kind of small, corpulent avian peeped at him in annoyance from a nest below the steering console.  He gave it a long, level stare, and it settled.  It might have _looked_ dirty before, but the Falcon had never had vermin.  He would take up the maintenance of this heap of junk with the scavenger before she or he died.  

Where was she?  He closed his eyes and searched the Force. This close, he could feel her presence like the pull of a black hole.  It was so bright it hurt his inner eye to look anywhere near her. Overwhelming.  Powerful.  Just down the hall.

His feet knew the way to the sleeping quarters by heart.  The door was closed, and his hand lifted, unbidden, to knock.

He no longer needed to knock.  There was no one left alive who could forbid him entry.

So he turned the simple latch and let the battered door swing soundlessly open.  

The scavenger was not asleep, which was a relief.  He did not think he had it in him to swing his lightsaber down on her while she slept. No.  He could never do that.  He was a monster, but he was not an animal.  This would be the most personal moment of his life.  The final ending of something and the beginning of he knew not what. He would look into her eyes at their last.  

The scavenger had her back to him though, and she was hunched over a holo-projector.  It was old and cheap, and the figures it depicted were faded and blue-shifted.  He craned his head to get a better look, feeling absurdly as though he were intruding. It was probably some important communique amongst the rebel scum.  He really ought to watch the entire thing to find out what feeble efforts they were making to oppose him. 

He couldn’t hear any dialogue, though.  Nor did he recognize the Twi’lek woman who entered the projection field.  Hux’ intelligence had to be faulty.  The idiot schulag.  The rebels had allies among the Twi’leks?

Except- why was the Twi’lek woman taking off all her clothes?  And why was she touching…Oh. 

As though just now registering his presence, the Last Jedi decisively slammed the lid of the holo-projector shut and spun her chair around to face him.

“Finally!” she said, her expression somewhere between annoyed and satisfied.  “It took you long enough.  I’ve been here for _days_.” She crossed her arms below her breasts, making the neckline of her plan linen wrap-top dip to expose the merest hint of cleavage.  

Kylo blinked several times in confusion, jerking his eyes back up to her face.  Of all the many, many ways he’d played out their meeting, he had never imagined their next confrontation would begin like that.  

“Were you…watching Twi’lek _pornography_?” His voice did not have quite the note of command he might have wished.  Nor were his words at all pertinent to their situation.  He was certain the rebel scum watched pornography all the time.  All together. Doing all sorts of things.  It’s not like it mattered.  She could watch whatever she wanted to.  So could he.  Of course, he hadn’t, really, but that was…. 

Beside the point of this. 

Rey made a casual, dismissive gesture with one slender hand. 

“I found it in the _Falcon_.  It looks pretty old.  Hey, do you think it belonged to-”

“Do not.  Say it.” The very _last_ thing he wished to think of were the perversions that Han Solo might have gotten up to on this ship.  The very notion of it was splintering his control, letting the dark side of the Force slip through his mental grip like rainwater. 

Rey shrugged.  She crossed her legs and propped them on the edge of the bunk to his left. 

“So,” she began.  She lifted her eyebrows.  “Do you go first, or do I go first?  You go first?” 

“Yes,” he said.  There were things they still needed to say to each other.  Questions he wanted answers to.  About the rebellion, of course.  She had answers about the rebellion.  He should interrogate her.  

He lifted his arm and projected the Force into a ring around her neck.  Not enough to cut off her air or blood.  Just to let her know he was there.  The power he held. 

“Tell me the plans of the rebellion,” he commanded her. 

She plumped her lower lip into a pout.  

“Is this really the one you want to do first?” she said, her voice only slightly muffled by his mental grip on her throat. 

“I’ll get to all of them,” he vowed.  “Don’t tell me how to conduct an interrogation, scavenger.”

She nodded as best she could with her restricted range of motion. 

“Don’t top from the bottom, I get it,” she said soothingly. 

What?  

His forehead creased in confusion.  He paused, trying to parse her meaning.  What kind of Jedi trickery was this?

“I just really thought you’d want to do the one where you hold me up against the wall with your lightsaber to my neck first,” she said, more quickly than before.  “But I can see that that’s more involved.  This is a good choice.  Fewer props.”  

He let his mental grip falter, hands falling uselessly to his sides.

“I don’t understand,” he said faintly. “What did you want me to do with my lightsaber?”

He looked down at it, still buckled securely to his belt.  Then back up to her face.  Rey’s eyes were heavy-lidded, and her pupils were wide.

“Well,” she said.  “Technically it’s what _you_ wanted to do with your lightsaber first.”

He felt a little nauseous, a familiar sensation from his childhood.  He’d never known what was expected of him.  He’d stand up in front of his parents, or his uncle, or his peers, and feel too big, and too awkward, and too present.  Like all his skin was stripped away and the world could see inside him.  Then, usually, he threw up.  

He took a firm grip on the handle of his lightsaber but did not ignite it. 

His eyes pleaded with Rey for some context.  Why were they having two completely different conversations in the same room?  He wanted to get this over with, get to the part where they were swinging laser swords at each other in the hold.  He was better at that part than this part.  

She looked at him expectantly.  “You know I can see your feelings,” she said, as though speaking to a slow child.  “Your thoughts.  Your dreams.  I’ve seen all the stuff you want to do with me.  The _sex._ ”

Oh.  Oh, kriff.  Oh Force.

He comforted himself with the non-zero probability of a meteor crashing into the planet where he stood. Of the new Starkiller Base coming online and wiping out this system.  Of the entire universe abruptly collapsing back into a singularity. Anything to relieve him from this farking moment where Rey was looking at him while thinking of the utterly filthy things he has imagined her doing. 

“Well, go on, then,” Rey said, waving both hands in frustration.  “Let’s have it.” 

The screaming inside Kylo’s head was louder than the wind that shook the hollow aluminum ur-trees outside the Falcon.

 * * *  

Some time later, he was seated on the edge of the bunk, a hot cup of kaf in his hands and a plate of blue puff cubes resting on his knees.  He felt a little better.  He was perhaps coming around to the idea of this.  Well.  He was already around to the idea of this, but he was catching up with the idea of actually executing on the idea of this. 

“Leia told me these were your favorites,” Rey told him brightly.  She was lying on the bunk to his left, bare feet kicking in the air, chin propped on her clasped hands.  

His cock, which had started perking up as soon as the Twi’lek in the holovid began removing her clothes, and which had reared to full attention as soon as Rey’s round, pink lips uttered the word ‘sex,’ shuddered and dove at the mention of the rebel General.

“You talked to my _mother_ about this?” he hissed out in disbelief. Rey snorted. 

“Well, not all of it. Just your favorite snacks.  And a little more about you.  She showed me some baby pictures.  Your ears were _adorable_ , why do you cover them up?”

Kylo groaned, putting the plate of blue puff cubes aside and sinking to his back.  He closed his eyes.

“You talked to my _mother_ about me.  About wanting to…” he trailed off.  It was too horrible to contemplate.  If his mother knew, the entire rebellion knew.  She’d always told all of her friends as soon as he did anything embarrassing as a child. 

Did you know my son, Kylo? The Supreme Leader?  Well, last night he had a very vivid fantasy of the Last Jedi riding him like a tauntaun.  Yes, he’s always been an odd boy.  Have I shown you his last quarter’s holo-report card yet?

Rey’s mouth quirked in a knowing smile.  “Oh, no, nothing like that.  I didn’t have to.  I swear, most of the rebels make like porgs every night.  And day.  And sometimes at tea time in the command center cloakroom.  It’s really been quite educational.” 

Kylo put an arm over his head and rolled away from her, mouth bitter with jealousy.  He’d been just sure that’s what all the rebels did. Positive.  She’d probably had sex a lot of times.  With Kes Dameron’s smug-faced druk of a son, no doubt. Girls always had liked Poe more than Ben.  Boys too.

“But nobody ever asked me to do any of those things,” she continued, gently grasping his shoulder and pulling him back over to face her.  “Until you did.” 

“I did?” he said, his throat still feeling dry and tight. 

“Well, sure.  You had that dream of me in a gold metal bikini. That was exciting!  Nobody had ever thought about me like that before,” she said, hazel eyes sparkling with energy. 

“I thought you hated me,” he croaked out.

“I’m not wild about some of your choices, Ben,” she said in a prim tone of voice.  “But I _am_ eager to find out if you can really do that thing with your two fingers and your tongue all at once.”

He was certain his face was utterly transparent.  If it wasn’t, his body was.  He could no more have reached for his lightsaber to battle her in that moment than he could have flown.  She had completely disarmed him.  His arms and torso were slack with astonishment, and his cock was as hard and tight as it had ever been. He was glad for his padded tunic where it fell to mid-thigh, concealing the tent that his synth-leather trousers had become. 

Until Rey reached over and started to undo the toggles on the neck of his tunic.  

“I know sometimes you keep most of your clothes on,” she said to him.  “But I would like to see you naked.  The first time, at least.  When we do it on the throne, of course, you can keep most of your clothes on. So that you can pretend to be giving important orders to the First Order fleet while I suck on your cock.” 

He gurgled out his assent as she efficiently stripped him of tunic, undershirt, then boots.  She was kneeling between his knees by the time her clever little fingers started to work on the buttons of his trousers. 

His bigger hands closed over hers when she went to undo the last catch. 

His eyes pleaded up with her, and she somehow knew what he wanted.  Could read his mind.

With a pleased smile, she stepped back and undid the laces on her own clothing, desert linens falling to the floor until she was completely bare before him. Beautiful.  Like nothing he’d seen on a hundred worlds.  Every line and muscle of her drawn by powerful forces unknown. Her last movement was to pull the ties from her hair until it swung loose and brown and shining around her shoulders.  Her hands lowered to her sides.  She turned slowly in a circle, letting him see the outlines of her breasts and stomach and buttocks from every angle. 

He sighed, letting his next question to her sing through the bond between them. A thought directed from his heart to hers. 

She giggled, a sound that shattered the cold, dark fissures deep within his soul.  Places the Light had not touched in years felt her warmth. Fallow ground knew the embrace of the sun.  She leaned forward and ever so gently brushed her lips against his own.  

“Yes, Ben,” she said in response to his unspoken question to her through the Force.   “Of course I would like to sit on your face.” 

He turned his body lengthwise on the bunk, glad the Falcon was built to accommodate Wookies.  Rey planted her knees on either side of him and shuffled into position.  She held onto the slats supporting the upper bunk, torso tilted slightly forward. 

Kylo put his hands between her thighs and spread her so that he could see.  Beneath the layer of down, she was pink and shining and perfect. 

“Thank you,” she said, still responding to his thoughts.  “I wasn’t sure what you’d think when you saw what I really looked like.” 

Kylo knew what women looked like without their clothes on. 

“I never said you didn’t.” 

He’d known in theory.  

“Of course.” 

He knew what he was doing. 

“Are you going to do the fingers thing?”  

He tilted his head up and back and let the tip of his tongue graze through her folds.  That finally shut her up.  In fact, when he used his thumbs to open her wider and let his tongue circle the entire wet, pink area, he felt a trickle of shared pleasure through the Force.

Oh, finally.  He could feel her again. 

“I never shut you out,” Rey said, voice a little husky.  “You shut yourself out.”

He pushed that statement away with his mind and pushed the tip of his tongue inside her instead. She was soft, like silk and blooming flowers, but so tight.  So small, compared to him. 

“It’ll fit,” Rey gasped above him.  “Don’t worry. I’m not worried about it.”

The connection between them was widening.  She was worried about it, a little. 

His knuckles swept down her inner thighs to her knees.  Then he let the pads of his fingers caress back up the backs of her legs until he could palm her ass.  Thumbs grazed her hipbones.  Then back between her legs, pushing and pulling in a circle around that small spot at the crest of her sex.

That spot right there. There. One thumb circled it lazily while his tongue thrust in and out of her.  She wobbled a bit above his face.  He reached up with one hand against her stomach to steady her. 

He reached down with the other hand so that he could slide a finger inside her.  The feel of her gripping around him was incredible, and nearly made him lose himself. 

If this were a dream, this was the point where he would start to come.  This much, alone, would be the end of him.  But it wasn’t a dream, and he wasn’t finished, and neither was she, so he thought about the Jedi teachings (that was always a boner-killer) and redoubled his efforts with his lips. 

“I always thought you had nice lips,” Rey panted above him.  “Didn’t know they could be used for this.  But was pretty sure they’d be good for something.” 

This is the only thing he needs to be good at, Ben thought.

A few more minutes of hard work with his lips against her body, and he felt her stiffen and her body clench around his finger.  He thrust a second finger inside her as she came, and she bucked her hips impatiently against his face.  The pleasure of it shook him too. 

She leaned forward to crawl off him, and Ben closed his eyes.  She was proud of him, he could feel. Kriff, he was proud of himself.  He hadn’t learned any of this from the Jedi. Or the Sith.  Or Snoke or Luke, bitter old virgins they had been.  He’d done this himself.  Him and her. 

He exhaled, content with himself for what felt like the first time in his life.  He cupped his erect cock through his trousers.  Rey was already planning what to do next, he could feel.  He smiled, letting himself wonder how they would arrange themselves for their first time.

Would she want him on top of her?  That was considered traditional for humans, he knew that much. 

But he was so much heavier than her.  No, maybe she’d want to be on top of him, as they’d just been.  That would be good.  He’d be able to see her lovely little breasts bounce as he thrust up into her. Yes, that would be ideal.

Or had she said something about doing it up against the wall?  The mechanics of that were a bit daunting, but he’d recently received something of a crash course in female anatomy, and he was relatively confident he could manage it, if that’s what she wanted.

He smiled and cracked his eyes open.  Rey was unlocking a cabinet on the other side of the room. 

She saw him watching her and gave him an encouraging nod of her head.   

“That was wonderful, Ben,” she said.  “I just know you’ll be great at everything else.”

What else?  The sex? 

He lifted his hand and held it out to her.

“I’m ready,” he said. 

She grinned, her tanned face blossoming with affection.

“Me too,” she said. She opened the cabinet. 

There was a line of silicon plugs, sized from the fathier-scale to barely bigger than his pinky finger.  Ropes.  Bells.  Clamps. Candles.  Feathers.  Whips, paddles, and floggers of various sorts.  A pile of leather harnesses, bridles, and saddles.  Shining silver balls.  A black silk blindfold that Rey lifted from its shelf with a reverent hand.  She thoughtfully removed the smallest of the plugs with the other.  Considered it.  Replaced it on the shelf.  Squinted at Ben.  Took a larger one down. 

“It took me such a long time to track down everything you showed me,” Rey said.  “Some of it had to be special-ordered, and some of it I had to ask around to find out what it was! And just when I thought I had everything, you’d think of something new.  So that’s why it took me so long to meet you here.”

That screaming sound inside his head was back.  It was blocking out everything, from the roaring of his rising blood pressure in his ears to the pounding of his heart.  

Rey stepped towards him, her gifts held out in front of her.

“I’m ready, Ben,” she said again. “I’m ready for all of it too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Kink-shame me @YTCShepard on Twitter.


End file.
